Rotting Hand flew into a rage. The god he worshipped had been insulted to his face, yet he was powerless to do anything.
Just then, a jumble of footsteps sounded outside. A large force of Federation soldiers was rushing over.
The furious Rotting Hand suddenly sneered, giving Du Jingzhe a mocking look.
"Old man, you can't move right now, can you?"
Du Jingzhe's expression darkened. "What are you planning?"
"Hahaha..." Rotting Hand jeered. "I'm going to make you watch as I destroy your beloved Federation, bit by bit!"
"Don't you dare!"
Du Jingzhe was like an enraged old lion. Visible sound waves erupted from his mouth, whipping up a gale throughout the secret chamber.
Rotting Hand's scarlet robe snapped in the wind. His smile grew even more mocking as he lightly pressed his palm against the stone wall.
The smooth, level wall weathered and corroded at a visible speed, crumbling onto the floor like loose tofu.
It revealed the Federation soldiers streaming in behind it.
Rotting Hand let out a wild laugh and shot into the crowd like a streak of blood. Soldiers were sent sprawling wherever he passed, and screams rang out one after another.
It was as though time had been sped up for the Federation soldiers. In mere moments, everyone who came into contact with Rotting Hand aged decades!
Their skin dehydrated and shriveled, their muscles wasted away, and their bones calcified. Finally, they collapsed like dried corpses.
More and more soldiers died, but they continued charging forward without fear of death.
The soldiers entrusted with guarding the secret chamber were all loyal followers trained by Luo Zhiwei. Naturally, they held this legendary speaker in extraordinary esteem, revering him like a god!
But now, they were dying in droves.
They did not even have time to wail.